


The Swap

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Series: Marie's Events and Bang Fics [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Battle, Blow Jobs, Bodyswap, Chronic Pain, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Everyone Needs A Hug, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Pet Names, Polyamory, Rimming, Self-Worth Issues, Self-cest, Stephen Strange is in over his head, Stuckony Server Gift Exchange, Super Soldier Serum, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-09 06:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: Stuckony Server 300 Members Gift Exchange**“Our sources report an unusual ending to the latest of the Avengers’ battles. Indeed, our men on the ground talk of Iron Man Tony Stark, Captain America Steve Rogers and the ex-Winter Soldier James Buchanan Barnes all out cold on the ground and being transferred back by their teammates with maximum discretion. Stay with us for more on the matter as the day goes on…”**Or when Strange’s magic does something strange and our favorite boys are left to deal with the fallout.[Tony Stark Bingo 2019 Fill, R5: “Kink: Selfcest”]





	The Swap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [duckmoles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckmoles/gifts).



> Hiya! My Stuckony gift exchange fic! The prompt I chose was "Bodyswap fic, rating up to e" and I tried to go with your desire for angssst! Hope you, giftee person, will like this! 
> 
> Thanks to the mods for setting this up because I had immense fun writing it!  
> And thanks the most amazing friend SerenaLunera who betad this whole fic in just a few hours, you're the best ❤

_ Cars are strewn over the roads in varying states of destruction, glass from their windshields and the windows of the surrounding buildings everywhere, some even flying in a thin powder that mixes with the air. Multiple fires are raging around them, the noise people make in their fear of the alien menace resounds around the three men fighting as one right by the corner of 38th Street and Park Avenue barely a few blocks down from Grand Central station. _

_ They've been fighting for what seems like hours, Tony is sweating profusely in the suit as he hovers around where Steve and Bucky stand back-to-back, all three of them dodging otherworldly bullets, attacking whenever they get a chance to. His mind registers the ease and grace both soldiers fight with together and Tony feels himself smiling even though he's well and truly concentrated on much more pressing matters than gawking at his boyfriends. He sends a blast of fire towards the closest of their attackers, killing them on the spot without stopping to wonder what they are exactly. Deadly that's for sure, with their long, spidery legs and venomous spit that makes the ground melt under them. _

_ Tony doesn't know where the rest of the crew is but he can hear Romanov shouting in the intercom, the Hulk's roar sounding pretty close to her. His eyes roam the streets, the suit red-flagging the points where enemies are still charging and Jarvis instructing him on the best ways to obliterate them while still covering the two men on the ground below. He's flying higher up in the sky to get a better vantage point, answering Steve's fast-coming questions without missing one beat when it happens.  _

_ Tony feels himself fainting without any foretelling clue, his eyes roll to the back of his head, his hands twitch and he's out cold before he can tell anyone what is happening to him. _

 

When Tony first opens his eyes again, his eyelids are slow and heavy to lift and he feels sluggish all over. He's on the ground, his mind files in for later, so he fell and that's about as much deduction capacity his brain can fathom before his eyes close again. The fact that he isn't in the suit anymore does not however, enter his mind at any time. All is black again for a while, how long Tony doesn't know.

His body is lifted up and jostled a bit but he can't feel hands on him anywhere, is he flying again? Tony drifts off again without having opened his eyes this time. 

It seems he's in a car and he's ready to sit up and fight whoever abducted him -- except he has no strength and the second he moves just a bit a gentle hand settles on his shoulder, he can feel parts of it, the heel of a palm, a thumb, an index finger and then there's Strange's voice in his ear, "Stay still," and Tony does, all fight drained out of him and unnecessary if he is indeed with the crew. 

He hears a few more voices around him in the car, probably one of SHIELD's limos, his brain supplies, seeing as he is laying flat on his back. Bruce is whispering indecipherable words so fast and so low Tony stops trying to understand them half a second after he noticed the man was talking. Thor is talking too, much louder, too loud in fact and Tony feels himself flinching before he can help it. Strange's voice hisses immediately and all is quiet again.

There's more jostling and more flying - magic, he knows now - and Tony figures they're back at the Tower when Jarvis bids them a welcome back.

He dozes on and off and on again for an indefinite amount of time. Sleeping a dreamless but nonetheless sweaty sleep, and only when his eyes open wide and sudden does Tony know what he's been looking for every time he opened his eyes until now and couldn't put his finger on in his confusion, "Steve? Bucky?"

His voice is hoarse, an unrecognizable croaky cry that rattles down his throat and makes him wince instantly. The room around him is bright from its white tiled walls and bleached sheets and Tony identifies the medical ward of the Tower immediately, been there enough times already, no matter how much he hates it.

He tries to sit up right away and realizes his mistake the second his stomach lurches and a deep pounding ache settles at his temples. He brushes the hair that falls in his face absentmindedly.

“You ok, doll?” 

Tony whips his head around without thinking, his hand flying up to his forehead, as if holding it would do anything to dull the resulting pain but he doesn't really care. 

" _ Doll _ ?" Tony frowns, he's looking at Steve, his face marked by shallow battle cuts all over, one of his arms held tight to his chest by a sling, the thin hospital blankets pushed off to his ankles. Steve doesn't call him doll, ever.  _ "Sweetheart", "sunshine", "shellhead"  _ even if Tony is being an ass but  _ not-- _

"You okay?" Tony does get up now, ignoring his body's protests in favor of walking up to Steve when the man's face turns whiter than he's ever seen it. His eyes are round and his mouth is forming an almost comical "o", "Steve?"

"I--I," Steve takes a deep breath in, "What the fuck?" 

Tony is at a loss now, "What?" he gestures in front of him, arms flying up in his anxious confusion. He stops mid-movement, _ "What the fuck?!" _ he echoes.

One of his arms is gray and not the gray you get from large, deep bruises or even necrosis - that, Tony could have wrapped his head around - no, it’s the gray of metal, a metal Tony knows all too well,  _ vibranium _ . 

Tony looks from the arm to Steve's round eyes and he has a feeling they must make a pretty pair, gawking at each other in shock, "James is that-- _ James _ ?"

“Tony?”

Both men nod repeatedly, no sound coming out of their mouths anymore, they just keep nodding and Tony needs to sit down, this is too much, it doesn't make any sense. 

He walks up to the hospital bed Steve -  _ Bucky _ \- is sitting on and lets himself fall next to him. What in the--

They stay like that for a long while, studying each other's faces, getting lost in eyes that are so familiar and yet seem to cast a different light than that which usually inhabits them. Neither of them has words for this, this situation that no one could have ever prepared them for. Tony stares at his left arm, the arm he built but a few years ago, he flexes his fingers in rhythm with the wheels of his mind turning in endless, speechless circles until something occurs to him.

He lifts his head up, searches the other man's eyes for a second, waits for the little head tilt that tells him he got his attention before breathing through his nose, this is just too weird, "But if, if you're Bucky and I--and I'm me, then..."

Both men turn their heads around, taking a closer look at their surroundings which they had - understandably so -  totally overlooked before. Their gazes fall on the quiet, beaten-up body unmoving under the covers of the last bed in the room, Tony's body. 

" _ Steve? _ "  
  


Tony’s body remains motionless and the other two seem to breathe in tandem, the room filled with buzzing tension. A heavy silence has set when the door of the room opens. Enter Strange and Bruce, their faces grim enough to let Tony know they’re not out of the woods yet.

“Oh good, you two are awake,” Bruce smiles shyly at Tony and Tony’s shoulder jerks in answer, he has to remind himself that Bruce sees Bucky when he talks to him, hence the careful distance he puts between them, Banner is still a little wary of the ex-winter soldier indeed.

“Uh,” Tony eloquently starts. He chances a look towards Bucky, his eyes still not used to seeing Steve instead and starts again, “Something happened Doc,” and he’s looking at Strange now.

The sorcerer raises an eyebrow at the nickname, “Yes?” 

“This,” Tony points to himself, to Bucky’s unbelievably larger body, tapping a finger to his chest, “Me, is Tony, Tony Stark. This,” he points to Steve, “This body is hosting James, Bucky Barnes. Which leaves us with Steve right over there in my life-fucking-less body.”

Tony’s movements grew wider and wilder as he kept talking, Strange’s eyes widening as well with every word that left Tony’s mouth. Tony feels the strength of Steve’s arms around him, tightening the way Bucky always does when he feels Tony going into panic and it’s an instant relief but still not a substantial enough one to keep his heart from thrashing in its cage.

Strange blinks repeatedly. Bruce’s mouth is gaping open, eating flies. Strange clicks his tongue once, twice before he turns around towards Steve, taking Tony’s thin wrist in his hand and checking for his pulse. 

“He-- the Captain’s state seems to have stabilized.” He says, whispers even, “I have to call Wong, I’ll be back.”

And on that, he leaves the room in a swish of dirty, torn-up robes. Bruce is still standing right where he was when Tony dropped his bomb-like revelation, his face frozen in shock and it’s not comforting at all to either of the two men still sitting side by side on the bed. 

“To--Tony?” he asks after a long while, his voice a lot higher than it usually is.

“ _ Yeah _ .” Tony huffs before pinching the bridge of his nose. He stops two seconds too late, “What the--” he glares at his left hand, “Oh right,” he huffs again. 

He’ll have to remember not to do that with his metal hand next time. At least not before he learns how to use it, or better even,  _ gets his own body back _ . The only good thing about it being the small chuckle it gets out of Barnes, “Yeah, it takes a while to get used to it,” the smug bastard winks with his golden-boy eyes.

And that reminds Tony right away, he turns his focus back to the other corner of the room, to his own labored-breathing, his unconscious body. 

“He’ll be okay,” Bruce reassures shakily, his own eyes trained to Tony’s face.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, he’s quiet as always but Tony can still feel his arms around him and it’s all that’s needed for now, way more than the feeble attempt at assurance that Bruce just made. 

Follow long hours of waiting around, of trying to figure out matters that are way beyond either Tony or Bucky's fields of expertise. Long, long hours of staring at each other still not quite getting the hang of what exactly is happening to them. Long, long hours of staring at Tony's body and not caring about the explanation behind what's up with this body swapping experience if only they can get Steve to wake up and come back to them, to talk to them, to give them his signature Cap look and tell them they'll all be fine, that this isn't anything to worry about. But he doesn't. 

Bruce comes in and out of the room a few times during the day and as the day turns into night but he never has anything new to tell them,  _ "Just checking on you, that's all" _ , and that's not doing either men any good in terms of calming the bubbling inside their minds or soothing the ache of not knowing if Steve will be ok.

Tony starts pacing, Bucky remains silent. Tony swears under his breath, Bucky hums. Tony starts pulling at his hair, the long strands slipping between his fingers much more satisfying than his own shorter hair ever is, Bucky stands up and forces his arms down and at his sides. Tony feels guiltier than ever with every other minute that passes that Steve doesn't wake up; it's his body, his weak immune system, his wobbly deficient body that is so slow to heal, so much slower than Steve's own or Bucky's. He'd be awake by now if not for Tony's un-serumed, old-boned body. Bucky shushes him, holds him tight, but it's not helping, not really, because it's Steve's arms around him, it's Steve's eyes on him, looking deep into his own and it's all so baffling and nonsensical and no one has found any way to revert it yet because no one fucking knows what is even going on. Tony isn't sure he can take much more of this and it's not even been a day yet and they don't even know if they won't be stuck in this situation for days, weeks,  _ forever _ . 

It's a full-on panic attack that takes over the very well functioning lungs inside Bucky's body, proof enough that Tony's mind is just as flawed as his body, just as  _ fucked-up _ , he thinks. 

His eyes are wide as he holds onto Bucky, his grip rigid and certainly painful but he wouldn't be able to unwind his fingers from Steve's wrists even if he consciously tried. Tony's crumbling inside, the walls of his mind encircling him tighter and tighter, his heart beating so fast in his chest it actually hurts and it takes him a while to realize that no, nothing is wrong with the arc reactor because he has  _ no _ arc reactor attached to this particular galloping heart. His vision is clouded by flashes of the battle, from beginning to end and how they'd been so comfortable back in the living-room before all this started, how he'd been so warm and felt so loved surrounded on all sides by super-soldier muscles and affection, cuddling like the biggest saps while everyone else pointedly didn't comment. Those images help, sort of, but only until those of his last moments in the suit hit him and then he's back to crushing the fine bones of Steve's hands, listening to Bucky's never-ending humming, hanging onto it like a grapnel to the mountainside.

It finally seems like Bucky cracks too and Tony can only prepare for the crash when he recognizes the strength pulling at his arms, pulling him in, closer and closer until his face sticks to the skin of Steve's neck and he breathes, deeper and deeper, finally calming, finally getting back some of his grasp on reality, as incredibly frightening as it is. 

Because that's how they work, in a tender balance of care and awareness. Because knowing what goes on inside each other's minds is  the hard-fought-for, hard-won second nature that comes with the relationship that unites the three men. That's the single most important secret to sustaining their bond and Tony knows as he catches the minute eye-twitch that's all Bucky and he sees him maybe for the first time that day, fully sees him inside Steve's body, he knows. It's his turn to pull and spoon the man between his trembling hands. His turn to gather his quaking mind and whisper his heart and guts in Bucky's ear, to bring him back over the brink of his own troubled mind. 

They share breath as Tony brings their foreheads together, closing his eyes and hoping Bucky will do the same - try to calm down. He knows it fails by the faint but consistent shake of the hands that hold onto his hips but it suddenly doesn't matter much. 

There's rustling in the unlit corner of the room and there's coughing, raw and heavy, and then there's two men tripping over their own feet in their haste to get to Steve's bedside. 

Tony's eyelids slowly flutter open and it’s a true experience to witness his own body as it begrudgingly wakes up. But Steve's light shines on both men and all Tony can think about for a minute is that he woke up, in spite of the faulty machinery he inherited, he woke up and he's smiling at him. 

Until Steve extends a badly bruised arm to take Tony's hand, “Buck,” he sighs and Tony is brutally dragged back to Earth, his eyes widen but it’s too late.

He watches as if in slow motion Steve turning his head with difficulty - he probably shouldn't be doing that at all - most certainly thinking he'll see Tony. He sees himself instead and it takes all but thirty seconds for his mouth to open in a gasp and his eyes close back as he faints. Out cold from the shock. 

Tony catches Bucky’s fleeting gaze over Steve’s inert hand. Eyes wide and biting his bottom lip, instantly guilt-ridden. 

“Hey, it’s okay, he woke up, it’s okay,” Tony says and for the first time that day, his words resonate with truth, he believes them and Bucky seems to sense it. The man takes a deep breath in and nods shakily.

“Yeah, it’s just…” and he waves at Steve, at Tony’s once again closed eyes, and Tony feels the metal arm jerk a little and he goes with it, cupping the man's jaw, looking deep inside to where Bucky’s trying not to go right back to the panic they’ve left but a few minutes ago.

“It will be fine, we’ll figure it out...or Strange will,” Tony winks and Bucky laughs a little hysterically.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so damn weird to look at you - at  _ me _ \- right now,” he says and his voice sounds so high Tony can’t not laugh along with him.

**_\--------------_ **

It takes a few more difficult hours of waiting around, sitting, pacing, flexing bruised muscles in anxious silence or whispered chatter for Steve to come back to consciousness. They've had time to decide how to approach it this time, discussing the best way to preserve Steve's fragile alertness in another of their murmured conversations. 

Tony is sitting in a comfortable enough armchair by Steve's bed, gazing intently at his own face as Steve slowly wakes up, eyelids fluttering open with great difficulty. Tony straightens up gradually, intent on not crowding Steve. He looks up at where Bucky is huddled in the bed farthest from them at Steve's back, waiting too, torturing his bottom lip in the perfect picture of himself in spite of the change in shell.

"Hey there," Tony says softly, his metal hand inching forward until it strokes Steve's cheeks clumsily.

Steve frowns at the staccato motion and you have to give it to the man, he's perceptive even out of a near-coma.

"Bucky? You ok?" 

Tony takes a deep breath, here goes everything.

"Hm, Steve, it's--" Tony frowns in turn, it's not like he hasn't spent the last three hours thinking of how to phrase it to Steve in a way that will make as much sense as it possibly can and yet words are failing him now that the time has come to actually say them. He takes a minute to gather himself, minute Steve lets him have, taking a hold of the metal hand still at his neck and searching his eyes in the meantime. "We don't know how it happened but er-- we fainted, the three of us, at the end of the battle and when we came through," Tony shivers, "When we came through, we'd changed bodies?" 

He had not intended for it to sound like a question but he couldn't help it, it's just that weird. Steve looks ready to laugh but doesn't, he squeezes the hand he still holds before croaking out, "Oh yeah? So who are you then?"

And Tony knows he thinks it's a joke, how wouldn't he, but it doesn't make things easier in the slightest. 

"Tony, Tony Stark right here and--" Tony stops, not sure if Steve is really ready but the man takes that decision away from his hands as he straightens up, clearly intending to tell him to cut it but he stops mid-taking a tsking breath. Sitting up means Bucky entered his field of vision and Steve gawks at them both, mouth hanging open as he keens in wonder. 

"Wh--What the fuck?" Steve swallows, before turning back to face Tony, the very idea of not staring at his own body seemingly taking most of his feeble strength. He studies Tony from head-to-toe as if looking for a clue, something that would tell him,  _ show _ him that it is indeed Tony who's inhabiting this body instead of his lifelong friend and partner Bucky. He doesn't find anything.

"A mirror?" Steve's voice is high, disbelieving and very much reminiscent of Bucky's own reaction a few hours earlier, "Gimme a mirror, please," 

Tony nods, goes to rummage in the various drawers of the dresser by Steve's bed, whips around with his prize when he finds one small, hand mirror type of thing.

Steve snatches it away from his arm even as he winces from the pain the sudden motion inflicted into whichever area of his body is bruised or broken, you name it.

He stares at his reflection, at Tony's face, at the brows that are furrowed and frowning the way he knows he's doing but it's not his own, it's not even his hand now that his eyes have looked down enough to notice the tan, black-haired wrist wound around the handle of the mirror.

He can't really say much more and neither can the other two men: the second Steve seems to shake himself enough to say anything the door opens again, this time letting in both Bruce and Strange but also Nat and Bucky immediately takes a step towards her before stopping in his tracks, maybe remembering he's not in his own body or wondering if she knows. 

Which she does, as she's the first of the three to speak.

"Good, you're awake Steve," she gives them each a small, barely there smile but it doesn't reach her eyes. It's clear to everyone in the room the woman is set on alert mode and that is what her eyes project right then and there. Not unusual, not reassuring either.

Tony tries to make sense of the explanations Strange is unleashing on them in torrents but it quickly gets too mystical for him to understand much and he can only assume the same goes for the other two men at his left. He clears his throat rather loudly when it becomes apparent that the man is not going to stop any time soon.

“The short version Dr. Wizard, please,” his voice is strained, he knows it is but that's the best he can muster, tired as he is. 

Strange seems to assess that rather quickly and instead of offering one of his usual comebacks he complies, winding his hands together, “It seems the only explanation for your present situation is that my  _ magic _ has ricocheted against the vibranium of your shield,” he points at Steve, and goes on, “Your arm, and,” he raises an eyebrow when he faces Tony again, “Your suit, creating a triangle of sorts. The why it gave such a result and how we can reverse it are still a mystery at this point.” 

All three men are staring holes in Strange's robes and face and in an uncharacteristic show of doubt, the man recoils a bit. Natasha is smirking in her corner and Bruce, well, Bruce is trying to make himself as small as humanly possible, as usual. 

The next two or three days pass in a blur of confusion and frustration. Steve is forced to stay in the medical ward for a lenghtier period of time than he’s known in over seventy years and that’s bound to take its toll on even the best of men, it takes Tony and Bucky all of two seconds to decide they’ll stay with him in the beds they’d been occupying right after the battle.

It gives them space from everyone else, an opportunity to chat or stay silent, depending on their respective needs. It gives them time to start adjusting to what it means to be wearing someone else’s skin and, even stranger, a special someone else’s skin. 

Tony already feels his perspective on Bucky changing what with having to deal with the faint twinges he can feel all around the base of the metal arm, what with having to handle the headaches that come and go all throughout those seventy-two hours and then some that they get just the three of them.

They don’t touch much, preferring to stay right where they are on their beds, as unusual as it is for either of them to stay put for so long. They don’t even talk as much as they normally do, preferring to wait for night time when Jarvis decreases the lights as much as Tony can bear to converse without having to see themselves answer their questions and doubts.

Bucky is the most silent of them three but it’s actually reassuring - it’s typical of him really, the darkly brooding kind except it's almost funny to see it applied to Steve's features for once, almost.

No one is surprised when Tony bursts from the room the second Bruce declares Steve able to go back to their usual floor, no longer in need of hourly check-ups. 

He very nearly runs to the workshop, JARVIS welcoming him with only a slight delay to his usual automatic greeting. Tony doesn't pay it much attention. He's past paying attention to most things but what he's been distracting himself with for the last three days - Bucky's arm.

Every time he felt overwhelmed with just too many questions or the pain in his shoulder, Tony had gone to this safe place of his - trying to solve equations and find solutions to any and all problems he could think of, all in his mind. Calculus as therapy had always been his go-to, who needed overpaid therapists when you could build things and draw schematics all in your head, numbers drowning everyone else’s voice till all you could hear were your own thoughts? Not Tony.

This is all too much to process but Tony can already tell the faint buzzing of all the machines and the gentle noises of his AIs as they go about their lives is already helping. 

Time stops whenever he enters his workshop and today is no exception. Tony sits on a rolling stool and goes from one spot to another, from a drawing desk to an assembling table, projects fusing as his eyes get more and more open to all the possibilities within his reach. The more he works the better Tony gets acquainted with the abilities and shortcomings of Bucky’s arm, all of his mind occupied in designing new elements to add to it and new ways to care for it and--

“Sir, Sirs Rogers and Barnes request access to the area,” JARVIS interrupts Tony’s train of thought and, sign that he was well-immersed into his scientific world Tony can’t tell what he’d been pondering on before the AI’s voice drew him out of the zone.

It would usually annoy him to no end but his curiosity is enough to hinder his natural response - that, and the automatic unease that takes over him as he registers just who’s coming forward and opening the glass doors right here, a few feet from Tony, right now - he doesn't think he's ready.

He doesn't know who could ever be ready in this situation and he'd been so comfortable in his own little scientific refuge - no magical weirdness to be found in here. They know he's most comfortable in here and generally even better when left alone so given their present situation Tony thinks they could at least try to look apologetic for walking in when he's trying to find his bearings. 

He frowns at the smile Bucky gives him, frowns even harder at the way Steve crosses his arms,  _ his _ arms at him. 

They don't say anything and Tony figures, he might as well keep going, they'll get bored of just standing there at some point. 

He doesn't get to. Steve whistles gently, a tune Tony doesn't recognize but he knows what it means nonetheless. Of all the times either men has had to come get Tony to stop his work-binging sessions, the number of instances even just calling his name didn't work had seen them developing a new technique - whistling it was. 

Tony turned his stool to face them fully, raising an eyebrow that made Bucky wince a little - undoubtedly still weirded out by having to watch himself. 

“I'm not “ _lost_ _in_ _work”_ , Steve,” Tony says slowly but can't help his voice wavering in the face of the disappointed Cap look Steve shoots him. How the man can make all his little tells and expressions transpire clear as day even with Tony's face as his medium is beyond Tony's understanding.

Steve clears his throat and widens his stance, “You're not?” his arms are still crossed over his chest and damn if that isn't still as irritating as it always is.

“I'm--” Tony stammers and pinches the bridge of his nose, with his normal hand this time - he won't be caught dead using the other in this way for another long ass time that's for sure. “I'm trying something,” he waves the finger of his left hand, looking Bucky in the eye this time. 

“And what is that?” Steve goes again but Tony is busy looking for an in to Bucky's thoughts, staring as best as he can with the distance that separates them to search the blue eyes of America’s Captain and there it is, in the form of teeth biting on his innocent bottom lip, Bucky's trademark doubts coming to the surface when the subject of his arm is brought up.

Steve takes a step towards him, not oblivious to his inner struggle either and after a second of hesitation, puts a hand on Bucky's shoulder, supporting him as they come closer to Tony. 

He waves for them to sit on the other stools around his work table, not close enough that his panic can creep back on him nor too far that they won't see what he's trying to show them. Tony angles himself so the stretch of skin that connects with the prosthetic is in full-view of the other two before he starts. 

“I've had some time to think about this while we were up there,” Tony makes a vague circle in the air with his fingers, “And the pulling,” he searches Bucky's face - Steve's eyes - and continues when he gets the nod he's looking for, “It’s not supposed to be this tight. I can't make it all go away but I should be able to make it better, with a softer material for the sock and more delicate wiring for the mechanism it should be doable. If you just give me--”

Both the others are nodding along for the whole of Tony's explanations until they're not and Tony knows what's coming but both he and Steve are surprised when it comes from Bucky.

“You've already been here for over three hours, doll,” he waits for Tony's face to show he's understood what he just said and man, he hadn't seen time passing at all indeed but even with the realization downing on him he can't not see the twitch in the corner of the other man’s eyes that tells him Bucky is having the greatest trouble looking him in the eye right now. Tony ducks his head down, staring at the arm he can't wait to keep working on, all this is only confirming his need for solitude after all. 

“Tony,” it’s Bucky again and the edge Tony hears in his voice makes him look up again, into Steve's eyes that don't shine Steve light but have all of Barnes’ distinct tenderness in them, “I appreciate what you're doing, I do. And I also know you think you're better off staying here on your own and all the crap you feed yourself all the time but it's not true,” Tony's eyes stray to the side again, “Look at me.” 

Tony does, then into Steve's eyes, his own but somehow not, and he sees the same thing that always steals his breath from him - whether or not he's got serumed lungs doesn't matter apparently. 

“It's not true, love, you need us just as much as we need you, no matter how fucked up and  _ funky _ this whole thing is, ok?” 

Steve hums his assent and once again, Tony is floored by the intensity of their focus on him, they always seem to do that, and he's never prepared for the amount of confidence and joy it gives him. 

“Ok,” Tony nods slow and then repeatedly, until they both get up and round the table, until they're both hugging him from one side and they're back to the warmth Tony hadn't realized he'd missed so much these past three days, “Dunno what you've been telling each other while I was down here but if this is the conclusion I think i like it,” Tony murmurs and feels more than sees the twin chuckles that leave both his boyfriends’ mouths.

It's Steve who says it first and then it's an avalanche of small kisses that comes down on Tony's neck and cheeks and cascades on to transfer up Steve's nose and Bucky's forehead,  _ “Love you,” _

Their bubble bursts however when one of them, and you’d be hard-pressed to figure out who exactly, draws back just a little too much and instead of gentle lips grazing closed eyelids it’s someone meeting his own gaze and searching his own face and the spell is broken. Because it's weird. 

Because even though they're all more or less on the same page regarding the fact that they will support each other through anything and that means body-swapping shenanigans as well, it’s still the strangest thing to be looking at yourself and to feel the skin of your own lips against a mouth that shouldn't be moving in time with  _ your  _ thoughts. 

They part a little awkwardly but things seem back to normal when it's once again Steve who takes matters into his own hands - ha ha - and clears his throat. 

“We actually came to another conclusion as well, Tones,” he sits back on the table just a few inches away from the other two while Bucky stays crouching by Tony's seat, “We're useless to the team if we don't try to make up for this,” he points haphazardly to the three of them, “We need to train in the bodies we do have for now. We need to be ready for whatever comes up while Strange and Wong and whoever they've got with them in Nepal try to figure out how to get things back to normal.” 

His voice is definitive when he says it and Tony has to admit, he’s rarely seen his own face so serious, rarely seen his body project as much authority as Steve manages to make it in this moment. Bucky's chin came to rest on Tony’s thigh at one point during Steve's little speech and he's now nodding there so Tony crushes down all hopes of staying alone in here a bit longer and nods as well. 

“Ok. And you wanna start now, of course?” 

Steve smiles a small satisfied thing and Tony blinks, “Yes, sparring first? I need to get used to this  _ body _ ,” Steve winks as he makes a show of flexing his arms.

Tony brings a hand to his heart in fake offense, “Don't you dare make fun of my body, sir!” 

“Whatcha gonna do about it,  _ shellhead _ ?” Steve prepares to make a run for it and that is probably the best idea he's ever had because Tony and Bucky share a look that can only mean trouble and the chase is on the second Tony calls it.

“Kick your ass,  _ Captain!" _

What happens next is messy and oh so welcome. They race up the many staircases that lead to the gym of the Tower and then keep going down the corridors until Steve finds himself cornered on a combat ring with Bucky and Tony coming at him from both sides, the grins on their faces the scariest thing to date and his breathing all over the place. 

“Now I get what it's like to be you, Tones,” Steve says and he's not even trying to provoke him this time, the sheer massiveness of two supersoldier bodies coming up to him, four large hands ready to catch him should he try to flee, it's not impressive so much as it is shocking. Arousing too but that still feels a little weird so Steve doesn't say it. Not now. 

“You scared, Stevie?” Bucky is the one closest to him now and gosh Steve can't think straight hearing that hundred-years old nickname coming from his own mouth. 

“A little yeah,” he says but then he remembers the chips in Tony's arms and makes the gesture he's seen him do so many times before but only ever copied without any thoughts of actually making it happen - make the suit come up to him and assemble on himself at his command. 

He's not ready for the full-body blow the pieces inflict on him, let alone for the very specific ache of the crotch piece and that of the face plate, easily comparable to a punch in the nose.

When he shakes his head and looks around he sees Bucky's eyes wide, obviously not expecting this and then, a little to the left, Tony, doubled over in laughter.

“Not so fun the first time around, huh?” he manages to say after he calms his hilarity and Steve smiles even though they can't see him. 

Instead of answering he asks for Jarvis to power up the blasts and grins on at the look of definite mischief on Tony's face when he guesses what's about to go down.

“Bucky, down!” Tony shouts and there goes everything. 

It's a mess of limbs and weak but definitely there blows, punches that are barely held back and each of them trying to come to terms with their present situation, make the most of it, learn to play with it.

None of them can tell how long they've been at it by the time they're joined by some of their teammates - certainly pulled in by the sheer noise they were making - namely, Nat and Clint and Coulson come to spar for a while and it's hilarious for everyone involved the way all three men give their best impressions of children discovering their bodies - amazed at each new thing they realize they can do. 

Everyone's panting for air and stinky with hard-earned sweat when they call it a day and the others leave to get cleaned-up in their respective floors. All three men sit on the mats, cross-legged or stretching or, in Tony's case, rolling back and forth a bit, his pent-up energy not quite all gone. 

“This was fun,” Bucky muses after a while and Tony's eyes are drawn to the shape of Steve's chest resonating with Bucky's speech pattern and tongue-rolls. 

Then he watches Steve in his own body and maybe, the awkwardness is slowly filtering out, it’s still bizarre but, and maybe it's all in his head, he still thinks he can see where his body stops and Steve's person begins. It's rather beautiful in all its mysticity and Tony finds he agrees with Bucky on a much deeper level than just that of their afternoon spent hitting and dodging each other. 

He nods slow and gentle and gets up, beckons Steve closer with a come hither motion of his hand and sits on Bucky's lap with his back to the man's chest and his arms extended for Steve to come nest into. 

He rests his head on Bucky's shoulder and relishes in the warmth of them. And that's when it doesn't matter who's where, because they're all together and relatively unharmed and Tony, for the first time in his life, has faith in all of it. He believes in them and he believes in their future, he believes in the sorcerers’ ability to make it all better sometime soon and more than that, he believes in this right here, the contact of skin-on-skin and breaths mingling in a loop, back and forth between the three of them as they breathe like one and all is silent. Quiet. Gentle and perfect. 

**_\--------------_ **

For all their hesitation in the three full days that passed since the swap happened, the moment all three men feel comfortable enough in the bodies they’ve been given and, more importantly, interacting with their own bodies, things take a much more interesting turn. Amusing at first, definitely fascinating after a bit of fumbling and blushing.

It takes them the better part of an hour to decide to leave the gym after the others have vacated the room and for them to actually act on that decision. They’re all much too comfortable tangled like that on the squishy floor of the room. But then Tony clears his throat and in one smooth, efficient motion, gets up and carries Steve with him without missing a beat. He turns back around to offer Bucky a hand and doesn’t yield to Steve’s yelps and cries to be let down. Tony laughs harder than he’s ever laughed when Steve gets so uncomfortable that he reaches the point of swearing he’ll never carry Tony against his will again if he will just please please let him go. He doesn’t.

“Not today, Stevie. Let me have my fun and stop squirming,” Tony smirks when Steve calms down, albeit reluctantly, and all shirt-fisting abates.

He doesn’t let go of Bucky’s hand as they make their way to the elevator to regain their floor. He only lets go of it when he sees Bucky’s reflection in the aluminium door of the elevator and the man’s winking at him, mischievous to a fault and Tony will be damned if he doesn’t get on board with  _ that _ .

The doors open in a quiet swishing motion and Bucky enters first. Steve is still clutching at Tony’s shoulders but instead of being strewn over one of them his legs have found their way around Tony’s waist and he’s holding on for dear life. Tony’s smile reveals all of Bucky’s perfect teeth and Steve frowns when he sees it. 

His confusion doesn’t have time to settle however, because Tony backs him up, and up and doesn’t let on until he’s got Steve plastered against Bucky’s front and Bucky’s back flush to the wall of the cabin. 

“How’s that, lovers?” Tony asks and he can tell his voice is hoarse by the way it scratches at his throat a bit but he doesn’t really hear it. He’s buzzing with a newfound assurance and it’s nowhere near stopping when he can feel, first-hand, the evidence of Steve’s appreciation of this new development, right against his hip.

Bucky’s hands wind around Steve’s shoulders, drawing him back to lean more heavily on his chest then slither down and further, till Steve’s gasping into Tony’s mouth one moment and his head lolls back in Bucky’s neck the next.

One of Bucky’s hands finds Steve’s dick in his pants and squeezes, firm but short then draws back again.

The breath is punched out of Tony’s lungs as he looks at them, careful to keep his grip steady on the back of Steve’s thighs still but he hadn’t realized just how intensely he’d feel what’s unfolding before his eyes - seeing the way  _ he _ looks when his boyfriends put their hands on him and it’s a whole new kind of thrill to know it’s Steve coming undone and panting but it’s all happening with his body as the host. A whole new kind of thrill to realize Steve is basically being touched by himself and a whole new kind of thrill again to fully get the fact that the dick that he feels straining and leaking in his boxers is that of another man. 

The elevator opens back to their floor and Tony doesn’t know how he manages to wrench his eyes away from the sight of his own face being squished between what should be Steve’s hands as the two men kiss and Bucky gasps and licks into Steve’s mouth. 

“C’mon,” he steers everyone down the hall to their bedroom, Steve still held closely in his arms. 

They’re all gross from their earlier sparring session but no one cares - they’ve reached this weird state where they know each of them is both analyzing what they’re seeing and feeling and at the same time too far gone to let the strangeness of it stop them like they’ve done earlier in the week or even today. They’re throwing it all to the wind for this new summit they’ll reach together, of climbing climaxes together at a whole new level of sharing, a level they could never have imagined even brushing past before. 

Tony lays Steve down in the center of their bed and doesn’t lose time undressing him completely. Then he sheds his own clothes and realizes Bucky hasn’t come up to them like he’d thought he would. 

He turns around at the same time as Steve strains his neck to look up. Bucky’s standing by the door and staring at Tony, or rather they both understand, at himself. It’s not difficult to imagine what goes on in his mind in that precise moment and Tony doesn’t let it break his heart, he owes Bucky that, understanding that he sometimes needs to feel that way, can’t help it but still counts on them to drag him back to the here and now and the  _ “You’re beautiful” _ . 

So Tony does just that, walks up to him after he’s silently asked Steve to stay put with a hand brushing his knee and kisses first Bucky’s cheek, then his nose and his other cheek then makes his way to Bucky’s ear, “You’re beautiful,” 

Bucky’s breath is ragged as he nods against Tony’s cheek and then he feels it, the way his hands flex once, twice, one last time before they fly up to wind in Tony’s hair and clashes their mouths together, the whine they hear behind them as they kiss ferociously that of Steve dying of envy at the image they make together. They’ve never been in the business of denying him so they part for a second, drop another peck on each other’s mouth, Tony’s hands caressing Bucky’s cheeks gently before they join Steve on the bed. 

“How do you want this?” it’s Bucky who asks and unlike what he usually does, he’s asking Steve and Tony is on with that plan too, Steve is nowhere near completely back on his feet and neither of them would ever forgive themselves if any of their actions worsened his injuries. 

Steve smiles slowly, a little emotional it seems and then he crosses his arms behind his head and he’s smirking, the little shit, “I’m seeing mouths and hands and  _ lube _ ,” he winks and Tony laughs before he makes up his mind.

“Coming right up, Captain,” he quips and Steve cries in surprise when Tony drags him until his ass is lined up with the edge of the bed, his legs bent to present his everything to Tony who’s now kneeling by it, his face in just the right place for what he has in mind. Tony’s hands keep him wide open as he proceeds to properly eat his ass, nose and tongue first. His eyes close down and it’s just as well or he’d probably give too much thought to the fact that he’s rimming his own body right now instead of just enjoying the steady stream of moans and curses that leave Steve’s mouth and the way Bucky’s breath can’t seem to recover long enough for him to take anything but shallow breaths in. 

Tony looks up from between Steve’s legs just long enough to see the unmistakable motion of Bucky’s arm as he jerks himself off to the sight of them and Steve seems to follow his gaze because he stops his swearing just long enough to huff and pull the man to him. Tony closes his eyes again then, he knows Steve all too well to not know what he’s got in mind and he all but laughs between his asscheeks when he hears the telltale gasps Bucky lets out when Steve’s got him right where he wanted - sitting on his face.

The noises they make once Bucky gets on with the flow of events are the lewdest, most wanton, blush-of-the-nun kind of deal. Steve and Tony busy themselves eating ass like starving men, slurping and sucking on rims and brushing fingers to blinking holes that can’t seem to wait to be stuffed full of them. Saliva drips down Tony’s chin and coats Steve’s neck as it drops down and down in time with Bucky’s hips stuttering with each of the man’s moans.

Only, they’re muffled because in the position he’s in it would be criminal for Bucky not to accept the offering he’s got right in the face, in the form of Steve’s dick, hard and leaking and poking him in the chin until he opens his lips and swallows it down until it hits the back of his throat. Steve’s moan resonates in Bucky’s body and Tony’s hands grip Steve’s ass so hard he’ll inevitably bruise but the man seems to be into that too, the distinct pain of each of Tony’s fingers, flesh and metal alike, squeezing the meat of his ass. 

It’s a concert of need and infinite lust and Tony can’t help freeing one of his hands in a mirror of what Bucky’s doing right then and fist it over his cock, pumping and thrusting at the same time, moaning in Steve’s ass like a man desperate to climb over the edge and that’s exactly what he is, what they all are. 

And it doesn’t take much longer.

Fingers worm their way past tight rings of muscles to toy with prostates, full hands fly over cocks that have possibly never been this hard before and Bucky’s throat tightens around Steve’s dick as he draws breath from his nose. And they’re all shouting in relief, shooting white on Steve’s chest, the end of the bed and coating Bucky’s tongue thickly.

They lie in a heap of sweat and come and there’s nothing else to be done about bringing them back down to earth and this new normal than wait for the afterglow to pass. Then only does their respective stench reach their nostrils and they’re laughing uncontrollably all up to the shower and they’re still laughing when the water first hits them. Only when their bodies are warm with the heat of the shower and the steam of it do they stop, misty-eyed and bitten-lipped to look into each other’s eyes in turn. 

Even with the prosthetic left on the counter Tony feels too big in this moment, not used to not feeling the towering presence of the two other men around him as they all stand encased by the glass walls of their giant shower. It’s still a lot to get his head around, just how much of his perception changes with the size he is and the strength that goes through his arms and hands. It’s a lot to take in the way he has to recalibrate the way he anticipates what goes on inside Bucky and Steve’s minds at all times. It’s a little fuzzy at present but he still catches the way Steve’s eyes go from Bucky - his own body - to himself and he smiles a little at the way Steve hugs himself, he knows the feeling. 

He walks the step that separates him from Steve and replaces his arms by his own, hugging the shit out of him so he’ll feel better and again, when he sees Bucky doesn’t join in naturally, Tony makes a grabby hand motion for him in Steve’s back, smiling, pleased when Bucky does come with a nod. They’re pretty good at this he thinks. 

The night comes to them like a soft and heavy blanket and all three of them are out the second their heads touch the newly changed sheets, making pillows out of each other’s chests and shoulders like always, exhausted. 

Tony’s sandwiched between the both of them the way they always do and even with Bucky’s body as his own, it feels heavenly, warm all over and just so safe he always falls asleep more easily than he’d ever been able to before they became a thing - before Steve and Bucky became Steve and Bucky and Tony - he still can’t believe it’s happened, even after more than a year has passed since they all exchanged those first hugs and kisses. 

Bucky grumbles a little in his sleep but not loud enough to wake anyone and nowhere near what he used to do freshly arrived at the Tower. No, tonight is Steve's turn and yes, turns are a thing when you put three people as damaged as them together in a bed at night. 

Steve tosses around on his side and then up Tony's back, pushing and even kicking him in the legs at one point. Tony wakes up in a start and sees Bucky's eyes are wide open in the dark but he can't have been awake for much longer than himself or he would have gone to Steve already. 

They turn around like one and Tony even climbs to Steve's other side so he's the one pressed against the other two and then they're both brushing their hands on his arms and back, Bucky on Steve's face, gently and then more and more firmly when gentle doesn't get them anywhere in terms of getting Steve to leave behind his nightmarish world. 

He wakes up so suddenly they both bite back gasps and Steve sits up, quite clearly confused as to where he is and what just happened. He’s panting and his tee-shirt seems to cling to his skin with the cold sweat of his bad dreams but Tony leaves Bucky to bring him back down to the here and now this time. They both heard, the way Steve called for his mom, the way he begged Erskine to let him enrol - they both know he went far away this time, not the ice, not the Chitauri or even Hydra yet, no, he went right back to his unserumed, sick self and Tony finally gets the full extent of what’s been going on behind Steve’s eyes since their bodies got swapped and he’s back to feeling extraordinarily guilty. 

It’s the fact that he’s so much smaller than them, that in his body Steve took so much longer to heal from the injuries of the fight than he ever did anymore, that the punches he’d tried to land when they sparred before he playfully called for the suit were so much weaker than what he’s used to throw, it’s all that that brought Steve back to what Bucky likes to call his shrimpy self and all the bad memories that are attached to it. 

Tony sits up but doesn’t reach out, content with watching his boyfriends hug the cold sweat and frantic searching eyes away and smiles when Steve murmurs his thanks in Bucky’s neck. 

The guilt bears down on him for the remainder of the night, long after the other two men have fallen asleep and he knows Bucky saw it but decided against trying to relieve him of it for now, knowing all too well he wouldn’t be able to do it just then and that Tony had no desire for Steve to know how he feels about the whole thing - he doesn’t need that in the middle of the night he’s already trying to shield from nightmares with the last of his strength.

Their sleep is troubled and light and morning is a hard thing to face with the headache that comes beating at Tony’s temples and the pull he still can’t get rid off when he puts the arm on. 

“You look like shit, soldier,” Bucky says and Tony chuckles.

“Looked at yourself recently?” He raises an eyebrow and Steve laughs softly as he passes between them to leave the room and go into the kitchen for breakfast. 

Bucky fakes offense and lifts Tony up over his shoulder, hugging his legs tightly to himself before whispering against his calf, “You and I, talk, later,” and Tony's hopeless but to nod there, his eyes in an upside down but nonetheless direct view of Steve's ass. 

He balances a little to kiss it and laughs when Bucky jerks in surprise and lets him down right away, “I'm serious, baby,” 

Tony looks into his eyes, so dark and intent even as their blue shines so bright on his face he thinks he can almost feel it, and he sobers up because he knows even the way he carried him - so Tony wouldn't have to look him the eye - was full of intent and care and he can't ignore it, he’s too grateful for that, “Yeah, I know, okay,” 

He's always been weak for Barnes calling him sweet names anyway. He didn't stand a chance.

They hear Steve grumbling in the kitchen and smile at each other wondering what's up. They leave the room with a kiss and join the third piece of their love puzzle. 

The second they appear in his field of vision Steve is groaning and Tony laughs out loud at the reason the man spills out, “I swear your body is addicted to coffee it's  _ insane _ , I feel like I can't function properly right now,” 

Bucky nudges him so he’ll go help, the look in his eyes all too loudly saying just how many times he's been in Steve's shoes and Tony goes willingly. 

“Gimme just a sec. Go sit. You too, handsome,” Tony winks at them both and grins when Bucky mirrors him. 

They're barely sat down when Tony, as promised, is back with a steaming cup of coffee which he places right in front of Steve.

“Here,” he says but Steve is already downing the thing faster than he's probably ever drank coffee but Tony isn't surprised, just a little shocked to see the exact motions he goes through every morning being made right in front of his eyes - Steve doesn't even like coffee, like he needed any proof that he was truly dependent to the thing, even with someone else inside his body, it still demands its dose. Bucky seems to find it hilarious and after the night they've had, Tony decides to let that be his emotional guide so he laughs too. 

Breakfast goes okay and soon, they're back to their usual routine. They go back to the gym to train a little more seriously than they did the day before to make sure they'll be ready if something happens and they're needed. They eat with everyone else for lunch and try their best not to let their staring bring their newfound and still fragile balance to a crash and Tony keeps an eye on Steve to make sure the night doesn't take its toll on him at any point, not oblivious to the fact that Bucky is doing the exact same thing with him.

They don't get their chance to talk that day because Steve is pulled into meetings and Natasha seems desperate enough for some time alone with Bucky for whatever reason and Tony doesn't get in the way of that, ever, it’s much too precious to the two of them. Plus, it gives him ample opportunity to go back to the workshop and tinker with Bucky's arm like he's been dying to - not to mention it provides the exact thing he needs, silence and seclusion.

Once again, Tony loses himself in what he knows and what he does best, science, engineering, creation. He doesn’t count his hours, doesn’t even look at the time at all for all the time he is in the workshop. At some point he decides he needs to be able to take off the arm to work on it properly and realizing that means only having one hand he speed-creates a rudimentary arm he can fasten to Bucky’s shoulder, only spending some time making sure the hand that’s attached to it will provide him enough precision to do whatever he wants with it. 

He’s truly lost into his own little world the second that new wire-and-pole kind of arm is attached to his body. The coffee machine in the far corner is working overtime as his eyes widen under the light of invention and he works and works and works and doesn’t stop.

It’s Bucky who finds him and Tony doesn’t know where Steve is but Bucky alone makes him startle something bad and he almost drops the tweezers he has in hand when the man walks up to him, unannounced by Jarvis this time around. Tony glares at his computer screen for lack of a proper face he could stare at when it comes to the AI, not cool. 

The look Bucky gives him is a mixture of worry, disappointment and fondness. For the first time since he got started Tony wonders how long he’s been in here and Bucky provides the answer as quickly as the thought passes through Tony’s mind. 

“It’s 2am,” his tone is dark and disapproving but Tony knows he’s hiding a smile somewhere in there and he prides himself in his ability to get those to come out the quickest. So that’s what he does, he gets up and kisses Bucky square on the lips, frank, dirty, licking his lips until he parts them and their tongues tangle gently. He draws away when he feels Bucky really get into it and smiles when the man tries to follow him to keep going. 

His eyes still closed, Bucky frowns and then only when he hears the chuckle Tony lets out does he open them, “Such a tease,” he says but there it is, the smile Tony loves more than anything and God is it a sight to behold, that flirty Brooklyn smile he only ever gets to see on Bucky’s face right here, distending Steve’s traits. Too bad Steve doesn’t let his inner Brooklyn boy out more often, Tony thinks, because that is  _ pretty _ .

“You can’t put last night on you, love,” Bucky says when it feels like they’ve been staring into each other’s eyes just long enough, love thick and dripping from one gaze to the other, blue gazes responding to each other almost instinctively. 

Tony ducks his head anyway, the dreaded talk is here. Tony wants to agree with Bucky, he does, but he can’t stop the guilt that rises within him as he remembers the night they've had - as much as he wants to, he can't crush down the thought that he's responsible for Steve reliving his past in nightmares. There's just no helping the feeling of worthlessness that creeps up on him every time he thinks about it - oh sweet hours of work he’s spent thinking of nothing but wiring and different prosthetic materials. 

“Tony, I mean it. You don’t have to say anything,” Bucky adds like an afterthought before he continues, “I was there, okay? When Steve was like that and I can promise you that even then, even if you’d personally infected him with any of his illnesses in any way, he wouldn’t have wanted you to feel guilty for it. And today? When you’re one of the main reasons the guy even gets up in the morning? Don’t, just don’t, darling.”

Tony’s looked up sometime during Bucky’s talking and he can tell his eyes are wet and he feels a bit naked under Bucky’s gaze but he doesn’t shy away from it, Bucky knows too much, knows him well enough than hiding his eyes or turning away or even leaving the room wouldn’t prevent him from knowing what’s going through his mind. It wouldn’t even make it difficult for him to figure it out, it just comes that easy to him. So Tony does the next best thing - he walks back up to him and throws himself in Bucky’s arms. 

It’s still weird not having to get up on his tippy-toes to rest his cheek against the man’s shoulder but not a bad weird, Tony’s decided, and he will make the most of it while this whole crazy thing is still going. Bucky hugs him tighter than he ever hugs him when Tony is in his own body and that too is nice, to feel Bucky’s emotions through the very grip he has on him, unrestrained, raw. 

They stay like this for another long moment before tiredness gets the better of them, coming up to Tony like a horse in a frenzy after all he’s done today and how long he’s kept it at bay - that, and his emotions. They go up to their bedroom in silence and here is Steve, barely awake but still waiting for them in the center of the bed this time and that’s good, maybe that will keep the nightmares away this time.

**_\--------------_ **

The days come and go, all of them pretty much the same. Villains and other evil aliens stay away, giving them a much needed reprieve and the three men learn to truly live in each other’s skins until the point where looking at each other only brings a twinge of confusion instead of the full-body shudder it provoked just a week before. Strange and Wong are still hard at work trying to figure out how to reverse something that’s not a spell but a reverberation of magic and it’s apparently harder than they thought it would be. Nat and Clint are busy making sure any minor threat is annihilated before it can become a real thing and Bruce tries to make himself useful by checking on everyone’s health when all they want is for him to rest and live his life like the rest of them. 

No one is waiting for it when it actually happens. They’re not even hoping for it, persuaded as they all are that it will take a complicated ritual and most probably several more tries from the sorcerers of the New York Sanctum before they can stumble upon the right combination of words and light, of magic and meaning and will and-- that’s not what happens. 

The three of them go to bed at the end of the movie they’ve been watching with the rest of the team and even Fury is there - all too curious as he’d been to see what all the fuss was about not to tag along for this particular night. They’ve had a pleasant evening with the others and Tony feels invigorated by the feelings of family and unity those nights always give him. 

They fall into bed not paying any attention to who’s where this time instead only making sure everyone is touching at least an inch of each other and then they’re snoring in each other’s ears. The night is on, for real this time. 

Little do they see the green lights that shine above their heads and flash through the room until they themselves reflect it back and forth between the three of them. Jarvis’s cameras no doubt have got it on tape from the very second it starts and maybe they’ll be interested to see it later but for now, all three men are sleeping through the liquid-like magic that descends on them until they glow like emeralds in the low light and the arc reactor itself shows a different, more profound tinge on Steve’s chest. 

They wake up, none the wiser, at exactly 7am for Steve like any other morning. His boyfriends on the contrary, are not that used to being woken up by the sound of wood splintering and falling as the door to the bathroom swings open in a loud bang on the opposite wall and Steve shouts a series of well-chosen curses.

Tony can’t help it, even before he opens his eyes he groans a playful, “LANGUAGE CAP!” 

But Steve’s litany of profanities stops all too abruptly for Tony not to sit up immediately, worried now. Bucky follows suit a lot less quickly and Tony only understands why when he sees Steve come back out of the bathroom. That’s when they go back to gawking at each other in a way that’s comically close to that which they went through in the hospital wing of the Tower just shy of two weeks ago. 

Because Tony is looking at Steve and  _ really _ looking at Steve this time, all feet and inches and six-packs and blue eyes and fair hair - Steve. 

Tony pats himself blindly and smiles when he feels his fingers catch on the reactor on their way up his chest. So it’s true. 

He turns sideways to look at Bucky and sees the face of the man lit up with the light of recognition, he’s back in there too and Tony wouldn’t be able to stop himself even if he tried - he laughs even as he jumps over Bucky to drop kisses all over his face and, without stopping, asks Steve to join them right this second. 

Time to have some much needed, not weird at all, back to normal, extraordinary sex. Thank you very much. 

The weeks that follow find everyone still staring at them but more because they got used to the way things got and are still trying to get their heads around the fact that it’s over. The three of them are doing just the same for sure, looking at each other and sometimes still catching themselves surprised at who's turning around when they call one name or the other.

Strange seems to think things went back to normal by themselves because reverberations apparently last only as long as there's still enough magic around and then stop when it wears off. He's still learning, he says, and Tony doesn't stop the snort that pushes out of him when the man admits it, the look of dejection on his face just too funny to resist. Steve looks less amused by the situation but Bucky is smirking in his corner so Tony figures all is truly well and back to the way things were before what will go down in their personal history as  _ “The Swap” _ .

And if Steve is a little more careful with him when Tony is on his stomach for whatever reason - wink to the camera, Tones - Tony doesn't resent that. 

And if Tony's adamant Bucky tells him exactly how things feel with his arm instead of the approximations he used to give him and if he takes special care not to be too loud around him when the days have been long and tiring and the man’s bound to be having a headache bigger than himself - Bucky doesn't seem to mind either. 

And if both Tony and Bucky are extra careful to remind Steve of all the qualities he has and how much they appreciate him for things that go way beyond his serum-strength while still giving him ample opportunities to revel in it - Steve smiles and goes with it, not even pretending that he doesn't need it. 

It's a beautiful thing, understanding each other so completely, and if they thought they had a pretty good grasp on who their boyfriends were and how they thought and lived through things before all this happened, none of them will go telling you this experience didn't enhance just about everything in their relationship. 

And rings on all three of their ring fingers are just one step further in that same direction - together, always. 

**Author's Note:**

> Can't wait to read what everyone came up with! And to know who I wrote this for in the first place! 😘  
> Will be back with more fics reaaal soon :)


End file.
